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Chapter Twenty-Three

Alan expertly maneuvered his car along the rural lane and paused before turning onto the main road back to Aspen Notch. “I’ll drop you off at your sister’s house,” he told Clare. “Will you be okay?”

“Yes.” She hesitated a moment. “No, I can’t sit there while waiting for word about Lizzie. What if she’s fallen in these woods? She could be hurt…” She unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

“Stop,” Alan commanded, using his police voice. “Mark, his partner, and the county police will thoroughly search this area. They have maps of the mine adits and locations of subsidence, and they don’t need you interfering.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I need to find my sister.”

I reached to the front seat, touching her shoulder. “I know you do, so let’s go talk to your sister-in-law, Janice Walker.”

She turned to face me. “I don’t know where she lives. ”

Opening the address book to the W’s, I silently sighed my relief. “She lives nearby—589 Chestnut Street,” I said aloud.

Alan nodded and made a right turn. “Should we assume you’ve never met Janice?”

“Correct,” she replied. “I know Liz likes her.”

It didn’t take Alan long to reach the fifth block of Chestnut, which had homes similar to those on Church Street. He parked at the curb in front of 589, a ranch home like ours. With the inside door open, we expected to find someone at home.

Alan led us up the path and knocked on the storm door. A dog barked ferociously and a woman, possibly in her early forties, told it to “calm down.” She came to stand behind the glass. “Can I help you?”

Clare stepped forward. “My sister is Liz Sterling, and I don’t know where she is. Can you help?”

The woman eyed Clare, then Alan and me.

He reached into his pocket to show her our business card. “I’m Alan Jaworski, and this is my wife, Sue.”

She turned the lock on the storm door and opened it for us. “I didn’t recognize you out of uniform, Officer. Please come in.”

We stood in the entrance, and the dog sniffed us before she told it to go lie down. She invited us to sit on the sofa when she removed the basket of folded clothes, then flipped off the TV soap opera. “Sorry. I was doing laundry since I have Fridays off. What’s this about my sister-in-law?”

“She’s missing,” Clare reiterated.

“No, I was with her last weekend when we were closing accounts from her husband’s business. Who are you?”

“I’m her sister, Clare.”

Janice frowned. “I don’t know what scam you’re trying to pull, but Clare’s a nun in Africa—and you don’t look anything like the pictures I’ve seen.”

“We haven’t worn habits for at least ten years,” she replied defensively, “but I assure you that I’m Clare Dolan, and Liz knew I planned to visit her. She must have mentioned that to you.”

“Maybe she did,” Janice said with a slight shrug. “It’s been crazy here, what with my brother dying and all. I guess you knew that.”

Clare nodded. “Yes, and I’m so sorry for your loss. It’s the reason I came to Aspen Notch.”

“Well, she lives at 147 Church Street and, if she’s not there, look for her at River Mill Golf Club.”

Alan intervened. “She’s at neither location, and police just located her car near lovers’ lane.”

Janice stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“My sister is missing!” Clare replied, frustrated. She closed her eyes while trying to calm her breathing. When she regained control, she said, “I arrived on Sunday, but Lizzie wasn’t home so I stayed with the Jaworskis that night. Alan and Sergeant Mark searched the house on Monday, and I’ve been staying there ever since.”

Janice gave a firm shake of her head. “I have no idea where she could have gone. Like I told you, the only other place she goes is River Mill.”

“Sue and I have been there several times this week,” Alan said, “and no one has seen her since at least Saturday. When were you working with her on Ed’s accounts?”

“Saturday morning at her house. All day Friday, too. He left some loose ends, if you must know.”

“Did you get everything worked out?” I asked.

“No, but Liz promised to meet a friend for lunch, then still had to get to the grocery store for her neighbor, Jane. We decided to put the spreadsheets away, and she’d look at them on Monday.”

“You didn’t plan to work on them on Sunday?” I pressed.

“The bank statements didn’t look right, so she intended to talk to someone at the bank on Monday morning.”

“Did she do that?” Clare asked abruptly.

“I don’t know. It’s not like we’re best friends or something. She has her life and I have mine, but I offered to help her after the funeral. That’s all.”

“You don’t socialize?” Alan questioned.

“Things changed after their kid died,” she stated matter-of-factly. “They joined the country club, then preferred hanging with the hoity-toity, if you know what I mean.”

“Yet you’re helping her close the accounts,” I remarked.

“Sure,” she agreed. “After all, family’s family. Right?” She kept her eyes on Clare as if to reinforce her statement.

“That’s very generous of you,” Alan said. “Do you recall the nature of the bank discrepancy?”

“It’s not my place to share that information, nor is it my concern. I’m sure Liz’ll get it straightened. In the meantime, look for her at River Mill because that’s where she hangs out.”

She stood and walked to the door, clearly indicating that we should leave. We followed Alan’s lead of shaking her hand, though Clare held it longer than necessary.

“I’m sorry we’ve never met,” she stated, “but I know Liz thought highly of you. Thanks for being there for her when she needed help.”

Janice’s eyes went from Clare’s head to her feet. “You don’t look anything like what I expected. What do you do in Africa? ”

“I’m a physician assistant, so I take care of medical needs for the people in my village.”

“Yeah, that’s what Liz told me. I think she’ll be happy you came to visit her.”

Clare sighed, looking as if she held back tears. “I told her I was coming.”

Janice nodded pensively. “Right, but she wasn’t sure. You know what I mean?”

Given no response, I suspected that Clare understood.

^^^

With the time approaching noon, and my recall of Clare not finishing her breakfast, I suggested that Alan stop someplace for a quick lunch. He had a similar idea, but took the route out of town instead of heading to the fast-food eateries near the interstate.

“I think Clare might prefer the River Mill bar and grill,” he said, catching my eye through the rear-view mirror.

“That’s a fabulous idea,” I replied, though I couldn’t see her expression from the back seat. I wondered if nuns drank beer, but decided not to ask.

She watched the passing scenery with interest, occasionally asking the route number or street name. I had a feeling she would find her way back without us, if Ed’s car would start.

Alan had her attention as he described Jim Withers, the bartender. “He also owns the golf club, so don’t let his simplicity fool you. He’s a good talker, though, and a nice guy. ”

I didn’t think Alan should be so cavalier when Jim had the J.W. initials. I wanted to stay cautious.

“Have you met any of Liz’s friends here?” Clare asked.

“Sue and I had dinner with Joe Wiley and his wife, Lindsey. They’re also Liz’s next-door neighbors.”

“Right,’ she said with a slight nod. “’Slyly Wiley.’ So many J.W.s. Do you trust them all?”

Alan pulled into a perfect parking spot near the entrance. “We’ve met with all of them, and no one raises a red flag.”

“Good to know,” she murmured.

We meandered to the bar and grill, not in any hurry. Clare gave a friendly smile to everyone we passed, even asking a couple of people if they knew her sister, Liz Sterling. Each of them replied in the affirmative before offering their condolences on the death of her brother-in-law. No one knew where she might find Lizzie.

When we entered the eatery, Jim waved and pointed to a table with a nice view of the 14th hole. I didn’t particularly relish eating there, given the location of Ed’s death, so I took the chair with my back to the window.

We must have arrived at a good time because he came over fairly quickly to tell us our choices of food. “We have hot dogs on a bun with French fries or pork barbecue on a roll with coleslaw for lunch. Of course, you can always get a burger. What’s your fancy?”

We each chose the barbecued pork sandwiches before Alan introduced him to Clare. His smile broadened.

“This is the nun from Africa?” he asked. “You don’t look like a missionary.”

She returned his smile. “Sorry, this is all you get. Have you seen my sister lately?”

He gave a shake of his head. “Not this week, which is really strange, though she told me she was working hard to close Ed’s business. Maybe she had to go into Scranton or something.”

“Maybe,” she agreed. “Do you have any beverages?”

“Soda and beer; bottles and draft,” he said.

“I’d like a draft beer in a glass, please,” she replied.

Alan grinned. “Make that three.”